He smiled at her, but cleverly remained silent.
“I have behaved terribly towards you, Cameron, I’m sorry,” she said, her laughter slowing down.
He leaned over to her and caressed her face lovingly. “My love, ye carry our bairn. For ye, I would walk through purgatory, sacrifice my life, and do anything to keep ye safe and happy. And if carrying our bairn makes ye nasty and snappy, then I’ll gladly suffer through it.”
She smiled up at him, and sighed. “Mmmm, you’re so wonderful, Cameron.” Her eyebrow lifted and he wasn’t left wondering long what she was thinking. “Could you massage my feet, Cameron, and rub my belly?”
He gave her a sinful smile. “Anything, my Queen,” he said mockingly, and she laughed.
After massaging her feet, he began to rub her round belly. He was struck again by how large his bairn had made her. He looked to her face, but her eyes were closing. He knew that his child drained her of energy and she grew tired more frequently. Still, she was so loving and gentle, despite her unusual irritable behavior. She looked so peaceful resting. Her breathing was even and all was calm.
She bolted up in bed, shrieking.
Her breath was faster and harsher. She placed her hands over her stomach and groaned.
“I’m wet, Cameron,” she whispered in pain. “The bairn…” she said but couldn’t finish as another pain consumed her.
“Breathe slowly, angel, slowly.” He caressed her cheek, forcing her to breathe with him. “Look into my eyes, Abby. That’s it,” he said. “Breathe with me.”
After a couple of moments, she smiled at him, nodding.
“The pain is easing a bit?” he asked, running his hand through her quickly dampening hair.
“Yes. But the bairn’s coming and quickly.”
“I’ll send for Bess and Mother. I doona want to leave ye, but…”
“Hurry, Cameron, but once they’re here, I don’t want you to leave my side,” she said, now panting again. “I don’t want to do this alone, without you,” she said, trying to breathe more slowly.
He kissed her damp forehead. “Never, angel. Wild horses couldna keep me away from ye and the birthing of our bairn. I’ll be but a moment,” he said, and left the room.
A few short hours later, through the screaming, snapping, and Abby’s outbursts vowing to never let him touch her again, she gave birth to their son-
Trystan Robert MacPherson.
“He’s beautiful,” she said, touching his nose as Trystan yawned. “He fed well and Bess said he learned quickly.”
“He’s perfect,” Cameron said, his throat thick and voice hoarse. Seeing his Abby birth their son had been miraculous- an event he’d never thought he’d witness.
His small son, was in fact, very large. Pride filled him when he’d first seen Trystan. Ye wouldn’t know it by the way Abby was smiling and exuding angelic light that she had indeed suffered through tremendous pain.
She already had a motherly glow.
His son was plump. Cameron smiled. It must have been all the honey he wanted his mama to have. He had a full head of dark hair, like Cameron’s. When Trystan had opened his eyes, they’d been green, but Bess was quick to say that a bairn’s eye color changed as he matured.
“We make beautiful babies, don’t we?” she whispered, sliding her finger down his plump cheek. “Think he’ll stay with his green eyes, or have stormy silver ones like his daddy?”
Cameron kissed Abby on her forehead. “I hope he has his mother’s eyes, spirit, intelligence, and gentle, caring soul.”
She raised her tearful eyes and smiled at him. “With his father’s strength, heart, generosity, and love.”
“Lord I love ye, Abby,” he said, near breathless. He shook his head. “How did I become so fortunate?” He cupped her face and slid his thumb over her cheek. “My love,” he said, choking with emotion. His silver eyes were pools of moonlight. “How sweet our life is.”
“Aye. Sweet indeed,” she whispered, letting the tears of joy fall down her cheeks.
And the new family spent the night together, warmed by the intensity of their love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Five months later
“What is the matter?” Abby demanded, rushing towards Cameron with Trystan in her arms. She’d managed to slim down to just above her baby weight. Her old dresses were just beginning to fit her again.
Abby’s eyes were dark with foreboding as she saw the irritation on the men’s faces. Trystan reached out to his father and Cameron took him from Abby. Cameron looked at her, and Abby’s heart stopped. It had been so long since she had seen that look on his face. They’d experienced peace for a long time. She’d discovered being with child over a year ago and it had been near paradise since then. No problems, no violence, no interruptions. Amy was even expecting Keith’s second child.
Everything had been bliss. And now she saw that look on Cameron’s face and she felt the walls cave in on them.
How stupid had she been to become accustomed to peace? She should’ve known better.
“Tell me,” she demanded, instantly frightened.
Cameron began to bounce the baby when he started to cry. Seeing his mother upset made his little body tense up.
“Shhh…Trystan…,” Cameron said, kissing his son’s head. He rubbed his son’s back. The five-month-old baby had grown surprisingly fast and surprisingly large. He looked as if he were a year old rather than five months. The baby began to calm and brought his pudgy fist to his mouth, suckling on it.
“Cameron?” she whispered.
Cameron sighed, hating what he was about to tell her.
“At long last, I have the confirmation that yer father murdered mine. One of yer father’s knights sought an audience with the Regents whom in turn informed Alexander.”
“What? But my father’s men are always loyal to him. I should know, they never prevented him from beating me or my mother. I’m certain that’s why my mother probably does not even know the name of her grandbaby despite the numerous messages I have sent. They keep the messages from her.”
Cameron walked over to Abby. Trystan was tugging on Cameron’s hair as Cameron leaned down to kiss her forehead. He wrapped his free arm around her waist drawing her within the safety of his embrace. Resting his head on her hair, he said, “I’m sorry.”
After hugging him for several delicious moments and absorbing his warmth, she kissed his neck and moved back. She looked up at him and was comforted by those beautiful silver eyes. She gave him a small smile and kiss, until Trystan grabbed her hair and tugged.
“Trystan,” Abby chided, laughing.
Trystan found trapping his mommy by pulling her hair hysterical, and bubbles of giggles erupted from his throat. Abby managed to get her hair out of his tight grasp and take a step back, smiling.
“Who was the knight who finally came forward and why?”
“Mills.”
“Mills?” she asked, her mouth open. He nodded his head.
“Seems as if yer Father knew no loyalty, even to his own man, not that it should surprise me considering his treatment of ye and yer mother. He became angry one day and lashed out. Mills’ wife happened to be in front of the moving fist and it connected with her jaw.”
Her brows crinkled in thought. “Well, he usually didn’t hit others but Mother and I. I should think that a proper apology would have smoothed Mills’ anger.”
Cameron smirked. “Not when it happened repeatedly and Mills’ wife was lying about her injuries for fear of Mills losing his station. Seems as if yer father had an interest in the wife and she didna return his affections.”
Her mouth made an ‘Oh.’ Cameron nodded. “Mills was angry and sought an audience with the Regents under the guise to improve relations. He thought it was only proper and just, that at long last,” Cameron said, exaggerating, “the truth should be told about the great slain MacPherson laird. The Regents informed Alexander out of deference to Joan.”
“Then Alexander t
old ye,” she said, nodding.
“Aye, that he did. Though the Peaceful places value on diplomacy rather than war, he confirmed to me what I always knew.”
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t he seek some sort of compensation on your behalf? Surely that constitutes diplomacy and he would want that peaceful resolution,” she said, not understanding.
Cameron shook his head. “Not when there are lands to be wrestled away from England that Alexander covets and desires to secure. With yer father alive, there would always be the possibility that he could gain Henry’s ear when he reaches of age to reign.”
“Why would that matter?” She was missing something and it was irking her.
“Because he knows that I would avenge the wrongs done to my family… And, the death of my father. Then Haynsworth wouldna have the opportunity to turn the future King’s ear regarding the ownership of those lands.”
Abby remained standing and looked to those surrounding them for the first time since she came down. The men had grim but eager expressions. Alice was crying, with Amy’s arms about her.
“You’re leaving? To battle?” she whispered shakily.
“Aye.”
Cameron watched Abby as she came to terms with what he’d told her while rubbing Trystan’s back,.
“When?” she asked in the barest of a murmur. She tried not to cry but damn the tear that escaped her eye.
“Five days. We are readying the weapons and men as I speak to ye now.”
She exhaled. “So soon, Cameron?”
He nodded his head, and for the first time let the pain of his father’s death show on his face for her to see.
“Yes, Abby. I’ve waited many years for this. I never thought to have Alexander’s sanction, but I do, which makes it better. I always believed he would be an obstacle in my quest to avenge my father. Now, however, he has more of an interest in the battle.”
“Does my father know that you know?”
Cameron shrugged. “I doona know and it doesna matter.”
“It doesn’t matter?” she asked, horrified. “Of course it matters, Cameron!” Her voice crescendoed.
“Nay, it doesna.”
“My father is the least honorable man I know. If he gets wind that you plan to move your men to the border and cross it, he will circumvent your attempt and preempt you! You’re laird, Cameron, you should know this. He isn’t honorable!”
He grew angry. His moonlit eyes became a fierce gray.
“Oh? Ye’ve advice to give me? Please tell me how to lead an army. Ye have my unwavering attention.”
Abby exhaled and pursed her lips. Her eyes narrowed at him.
“I am the very capable laird over the strongest clan in Scotland, Abigail. I was leading this clan while ye were still playing with rag dolls. I’ve been laird nigh ten years and became one at the age of one and twenty, a mere two years before that fateful night when first I saw ye.”
More tears formed in her eyes. She’d insulted him and she hadn’t meant to. It came out wrong. It saddened her though, that he would take such offense to her words.
Didn’t he know how much she loved him?
How much she feared for him?
“I am sorry, Cameron,” she said on an exhale, “I meant no insult.”
She walked to him, and took Trystan out of his arms. The baby swung his arms, not wanting to leave his father.
“If you believe I would purposefully say such a thing to hurt you, then you know me no better today than the day we married.” Her voice trembled. She turned and hurriedly ascended the stairs.
“Abigail,” he said, but she paid no heed. She actually increased her pace. “Abigail!” Cameron said, seething with anger at the audacity she had to ignore him.
“Fine! Be done then!” he roared and turned to those witnessing the lovers’ spat.
“She loves ye and is concerned for ye,” Alice said, her face red with irritation. “How ye could misinterpret her words as an insult is beyond my comprehension, Cameron.”
He sighed and slammed his hand down on the table. “Damn it. Mother, she knows not of war, and neither do ye! I am this close,” he said, indicating measurement with his fingers, “to killing that bastard! The bastard who took yer husband’s,” and he swept his fingers in a circular motion above his head, “and our father’s life! The bastard who repeatedly struck my wife and her mother. The bastard who made my wife feel as though she were in hell! Yes,” he said, angrily, “I will take insult. I am laird and I know how to care for mine.” The impatient finger he pointed at his chest indented the plaid and skin there.
She inhaled loudly, shakily. She knew her son was angry and damned stubborn.
Just like Robert.
“Damn if ye’re not just like him,” Alice said.
“Aye, that I am,” he said incredulously, eyes wide. “His spitting likeness, Mother, just as Trystan is my verra own!”
“True, what then?” she asked, narrowing her gaze.
“Mother, ye act as if ye doona want Father’s death avenged!”
“Oh, I do, Cameron, I do. More than the air that I breathe,” she said passionately, her brown eyes hard. “But I want it done correctly and not at the expense of my sons! You carry the risk of forsaking yer future with yer beautiful wife and son, to avenge a past that is no more.”
His eyes widened. “So, ye too, doubt my capabilities.”
“Oh, ye stubborn arse! Nay! Abby and I do not doubt ye’re capable, ‘tis that we wish for ye to use more caution and not charge head first into battle leaving yer arse without cover! Abby wanted ye to think more on it.”
“I doona need yer or Abigail’s suggestions, Mother. If ye both wish to be lairds, then perhaps ye should gather the women and children and form a faction.”
Her mouth dropped open. “When did ye learn to be such a bastard?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her, for he’d never heard his sweet mother use that language towards another, least of all on any of her children.
“Yes, ye heard correctly. How dare ye speak like that, Cameron. To me? To yer wife? But I’ll excuse yer behavior on heightened emotions and excitement for the upcoming battle. Ye should be so lucky to have that same forgiveness from yer loving and loyal wife.”
He pursed his lips together, remaining stubbornly silent. She tried another tactic.
“Would ye say that ye were at least as capable as yer father?”
“Yes, I would say that.”
“Well,” she sighed and raised her chin. “I told yer father that day not to go. I told him to wait longer, that Haynsworth would not fight fairly. But yer father,” she said, laughing without humor, “thought he was wiser as well. He thought he was safe with his white flag. The minute he stepped off Haynsworth’s estate, Haynsworth was plotting to kill him. Gathered men, he did, knowing yer father was seeking only to parley on behalf of our Crown. He had a small contingency that day, as Haynsworth saw with his verra own eyes. Yer father came home, but not with his usual love for life. Instead, I saw him brought home on his back instead of the stubborn feet he left on.”
Cameron closed his eyes. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. He looked to his mother, willing her to understand.
“Mother, I know that ye and Abby are concerned. I am capable, though. I will not leave my wife a widow or my son fatherless.”
Alice sighed angrily. “And just like yer father, stubborn and all, ye will not listen to yer wife. Well, Cameron,” she said sadly, “I hope that ye do not prove yer wife’s prophecy true as yer father did mine.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“What’s a small secret, honestly,” she said to him a mere day later. She rubbed against him and breathed on his neck, biting his ear. “Tell me.”
“I shouldna be tellin’ ye this. We were ordered to bring ye before our laird.”
She licked the inside of his ear. “Look at me. Do I look like I’d poison the wife of a powerful laird? I doona know how, and I wouldna even know where to look. They
are mistaken.” She licked his ear again.
He closed his eyes as she grabbed his cock.
“Why am I not going to see ye for a while? I have an itch that only ye can scratch.”
His eyes flared as she moved backwards, exposing her breasts to his hungry eyes. He reached out his hand, which shook a little, and grasped one of her large breasts. She arched her head back and moaned, biting her lip as she smiled.
“Only ye do this to me,” she said, taking his other hand and placing it on her other breast. “Tell me,” she said, pouting. “How long will I be without ye?” She turned her head to the side, giving him her most innocent face.
He smiled, fondling her full breasts. He shifted in the hay.
“We leave in four days to avenge the death of our laird’s father. We’ll be moving towards Haynsworth on the border.”
She sulked and gave him her very best practiced pout. “That long?” she asked, dragging her hand down her body. His eyes followed.
He cleared his throat. “Yes.” He looked at her blue eyes briefly before returning back to where her finger continued south from her bellybutton.
“We’ll have to make this night more special then, willna we?” she asked, smiling coyly.
Just before dawn broke, she mounted on a horse and rode out at a neck-breaking pace.
For the border.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Four days later
“Ye remain angry with me?”
Abby had her back to him with their son in her arms. She looked out through their bedchamber window watching the men prepare for battle.
Cameron waited several moments before realizing that she, again, was refusing to talk to him, or even look at him.
“Well then, Abby. I shall see ye, Lord willing, within a fortnight.”
He walked over to her and took Trystan from her arms. The baby began kicking his legs in excitement and babbled.
“I love ye, Abby.” He looked down at his son, who looked so much like him, but with green eyes so deep in hue, it looked like the green grass of the glen.
Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 3) Page 21